


Stock Up on Kerosene.

by TrashQueenOfficial



Series: Lamps, Stress, and Magic (Featuring the New Jersey Devils.) [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Magic!AU, Multi, New Jersey Devils, also warning a character forces himself to throw up, and slowly turn into just a terrible mix of magic and locker room shenanigans, it's gonna be more magic based now, its not associated with an eating disorder but just in case, lamp!au is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6338233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashQueenOfficial/pseuds/TrashQueenOfficial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid's lamp is absolutely most definitely cursed and he's absolutely sure of it. If he's not cursed then snakes are mammals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stock Up on Kerosene.

If Reid was skeptical before, he's almost certain now. His lamp is fucking cursed. They are shut out upon playing Tampa Bay, meaning literally no one scored except him in their last two games. That horrifies Reid to the point where he just apologizes to Kyle Palmieri while hanging out with him during the morning skate.

“What are you even sorry about kid?” Kyle’s brow is furrowed and his taking a huge bite out of his taylor ham, egg and cheese. He had missed them in Anaheim and buys them every chance he gets, usually about once a week.

“My lamp, it’s cursed.” He regrets saying that immediately, face going red upon the words falling out of his mouth. Kyle just laughs around his sandwich.

“Go to Damon, Bouch. If it's cursed he’ll know, and will fix it.” Now Reid’s brow is furrowed.

“No offense, but um, why Damon?”

“Dude is like, immensely powerful, magic wise I mean. Found out last year when someone asked how he spent his summer and he said it was fucking _classified._ Apparently he spent it as a fucking magical body guard for the Prime Minister of Canada how fucking cool is that?” Reid’s shocked at that, he literally flinches back. There were tests people who were magically inclined to take, government tests. They were to fund the most powerful and feed them into government jobs. For Damon to have been with the PM, that means he had to be pretty damn powerful. Even then only goalies had magic, there were a few forwards yeah, but goalies were the main magic users in every league he’d been too.

“Are you sure he wasn’t ribbing you? I mean I watched him fall asleep in his food at lunch the other day.” It had been at Cammalleri’s, Damon had made some pasta and mixed vegetable thing and ended up falling asleep into his bowl while they ate on the couch and Reid tore Mike a new one at smash brothers.

“I’m sure. Just go. And ask him about it cause Mikey won’t tell us anything.” Kyle shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and goes to talk to Henrique as he comes into the locker room.

When Reid finds Damon he’s with his typical partner in shitty prank-fuelled crime, Adam Larsson. The two get on thick as thieves, both being one of the few quiet and reserved players on the team they got on fairly quickly. Using their quiet and unsuspicious nature to prank the fuck out of the locker room. Reid found video of Damon crawling out of Adam Henrique’s gear bag online, Lars laughing quietly behind the camera. He heard they somehow managed to stuff glitter under the tape on Greene’s stick, so that when he untapped it glitter got everywhere. That resulted in bag-skates for the two and fifty bucks in the swear jar from Greener.  However, this talk seems to be more serious, Damon is handing Larsson back some sort of necklace.

“That should hold now dude, call me if anything.” Adam nods, holding the necklace close to his chest and messing up Damon’s hair as he walks away. It’s then that Damon noticed him, and in lieu of greeting him Reid just tells him his problem like he did Kyle.

“My lamp’s cursed.” Damon shakes his head at Reid.

“You mean like, aside from usual? No it’s not,” Reid just stares at him confused, waiting for Damon to explain, “The lamps are kind of a curse, a curse put in place by a very irritated Terry Sawchuk. Every hockey player who took a shot on him got cursed with this lamp, so that scoring would be too complicated, which kinda backfired. It kind of got out of hand, evolved, and now just about everyone who plays gets one from birth.”

“That’s nice, how do you know my lamps not cursed?” Reid is getting impatient, Damon hadn’t even touched his lamp yet.

“Um it’s my job. I would feel it. I also spend about all of my free time around a cursed lamp. I mean I’ll still examine it if you want, but I’m telling you now it’s not cursed.” Damon holds out his hands for the lamp, which Reid quickly puts in his hands.

“Wait, Cammy’s lamp is cursed?” Damon just nods, staring down at Reid’s lamp.

“It spreads, kinda caused his injured wrist, so he’s really not allowed in the locker room. With or without the lamp, so don’t tell coach I let him in the locker room in Columbus,” Damon winks at Reid before handing him back his lamp, “Yeah you’re good dude. What made you think it’s cursed?”

“No one's scored since I did in Columbus, and I think I just got really paranoid.” Reid could feel a blush creeping into his face, Damon laughing lightly at him. To save himself from this embarrassing moment he brought up Kyle’s request.

“Um the guys kinda want to know exactly what your job is, I mean Lars probably knows but we don’t and I think we should.” Damon looks like he’s thinking for a moment, biting at his lower lip.

“Yeah, I mean yeah. Just round everyone up eh?” Damon looks a little scared and that makes something in Reid’s chest clench, he shouldn’t be scared to his team anything.

Reid gathers everyone together and herds them into the locker room with little effort, the team had been wanting to hear about this for awhile. Everyone is huddled on the carpet of the locker room, reminding Reid of his kindergarten days. Rico and Gio are shoving and chirping at each other lightly, and the rest of the team chattering amongst themselves. Damon looks really fidgety, standing in front of the tv they use to go over game footage, a dvd in his hands that Reid thinks says WC 2015 in handwriting that is way to big and messy to be his. Greene shushed their teammates when it looked as if Damon wanted to start talking, kicking Henrique’s back to get him to stop fucking with Gionta.

“I um, it’s kind of hard to explain what I do. You all know the magic testing right, to get like an idea of how much magical power you have before you graduate?” Damon stops for a bit, just to make sure everyone knows what he’s talking about, “Some people, Greener, are blessed with the magical power of a rock.” There’s a pause as the guys start ribbing the captain for a bit, and getting chirps in return. It quickly quiets down however, the guys trying to find out what Severson is getting at.

“I unfortunately have a lot of magical power, like an obnoxious amount. My mom and dad both came from very magically inclined families and started to teach me very young about it. So one thing lead’s to another and I’m sixteen and standing in the PMs office. I mean I didn’t even want to be there, I had a full season with the Rockets to look forward to and I just wanted to play hockey. So I made a deal, that lasts until I retire from here. I can play professionally, as long as I work for the league and IIHF, uncursing rinks and evaluating players and equipment. I’m on call year round, in case the person who the government brings in is completely incompetent, and I work in the summer, the day after Break Up Day usually.” Damon’s biting his lip again, trying to figure out if he left anything out. Which seems rather unlikely.

“So um, what are you good at? Like what do you do specifically?” Stephen was the first to ask questions, having a magically inclined little girl at home.

“Decursing mostly, putting charms in place. I set up the rink before games. I’m kind of unconventional however, which is why I have the tape.” Damon raises the dvd in his hands, shaking it around in it’s protective casing.

“Why do you have that? Like are you recording yourself? And why didn’t you say anything sooner, we wouldn’t have judged you man.” Jordin looked a bit confused and hurt, but so do a few of the guys.

“The NHL records me, to make sure I’m not cursing other players and just to keep a catalogue of all the cases of curses or jinxes. And as for the not saying anything thing, I wasn’t really needed much last year, and DeBoer was kind of really uncomfortable with it,” Damon shrugs, then shakes the tape again, “Wanna watch me fix Sidney Crosby at worlds?”

“Hell yeah Sevvy, get it running.” Greene smiles at Damon, who smiles back and puts the dvd into the player and turning on the TV.

“I mean it gets really gross, so I suggest we kick Blender out before he blows chunks.” Joey frowns, throwing his hat at Damon in retaliation for the chirp, locking the blond defenseman in a headlock after he sits down with the hat on his head.

The video footage starts in a locker room, Martin Jones and Mike Smith sitting to one side, Sidney and Claude Giroux on the other, hands tightly clasped together.

“Can I ask what the point of this is?” Giroux looked very irritated, his voice coming out staticy through the tv.

“Someone noticed something off about Crosby, we’re waiting for him to come in,” Babcock was interrupted by Damon rushing in, a man in a suit not very far behind him. The guy with Damon looked every bit the part of a secret serviceman, sunglasses, dark suit, the works. Damon himself was shucking off his own suit jacket and talking to someone on the phone, handing his jacket to the man who came in with him.

“You ask Harper if he wants Canada to win worlds this year or if he wants me to get rid of his headache, it’s his call,” Damon stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Bring in Nina, Max can’t uncurse his way out of a paper bag.” He hung up very quickly, making eye contact with the other man in the suit and giving him an annoyed look  before turning to look around the locker room.

“The baby devil?” Claude looked outraged, “I’ve seen this kid trip over his own skates!”

“He’s very good at his job.” Suit Dude piped up from the back, taking off his sunglasses and putting them into the pocket of his jacket.

“Way to stick up for me Josh.” Damon gives Suit Dude, Josh, a thumbs up.

“Just hurry up man, I’m starving. And don’t do that thing this time.” Damon snorts as he gestures Crosby over to the center of the locker room.

“Which is it Josh, don’t do the thing or hurry up? Alright Sidney, can you tell me when all the injuries started messing with the penguins? Specifically any new people you met?” Damon sat down in the carpet, tugging on Sid’s national team jacket to get him to sit down with him, facing him sitting cross-legged.

“I met this russian dude at Geno’s right before training camp, I think they were talking about Worlds, after that everything kind of felt off. Why does it have to do with that?” Sidney looks worried, eyes tight in the corners and brow furrowed.

“Perfect, Russians. Sid do you have a rash on your back? Kinda looks like sunburn?” Damon was already unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it to the side and yanking his undershirt over his head. Joshua quickly collected his clothing, hanging it over the same arm as the suit jacket that was removed prior. In their actual locker room Joey and a few of the other guys are wolf whistling at the Damon on the screen. Sidney’s answer is drowned out by Cory yelling about how skinny Damon is. However judging by the shock on Sid and Claude’s faces and the long period of silence between, Reid knows Crosby has the rash.

“Look at that farmer's tan!” Joey gets a smack to the back of the head from Damon for the comment, and the noise is quickly dampened down by Andy angrily shushing his team.

“Alright Sidney I need you to take off your shirt and turn around. This curse is kind of nasty so it may take a while.” Sidney is doing as Severson says, albeit slowly.

“And we are here why?” Martin Jones looks worried.

“To keep me from fainting without removing his curse.” Damon quickly leans forward, forehead pressing into Sid’s back and chanting under his breath. One of his hands were placed on Crosby’s shoulder, the other on his ribs, to keep him from fidgeting too much. Something quickly starts spreading across his shoulder blades, red like Sid’s rash. Something wasn’t right about it though, and eventually the redness spread down his back, and it looked a lot more than normal sunburn. It looked like second degree burns, and was very slowly getting worse. Damon’s chanting was hitching, his voice breaking or getting louder from the pain that had to be coming from his back. Severson was drenched in sweat, eyes tightly closed as he fought to put all his power into clearing Sidney’s curse. A good twenty minutes passed and no progress had been made, the rest of the people in the room looking ridiculously uncomfortable. Mike Smith looked particularly upset, mumbling every so often.

“It’s not working,” Damon looked back at Josh, face covered in sweat, “I’ve got to do the thing.” Josh just held up his hands in a “do what you have to” manner. Damon nodded and then lifted himself up onto his knees, tilting Sidney’s head back and kissing him, which caused an uproar in the national team locker room, nothing but silence from the one they were actually in as half the guys were confused. Coach Hynes had walked in at one point, but quickly walked back out when he saw what they were watching. Claude was moving to separate the two, but Josh stepped into his way extremely quickly.

“Don’t you can hurt them both. Damon’s already putting himself at risk.” Claude moved back, confused and angry. Almost as quickly as it had begun the kiss had ended, and Crosby slumped forward almost bonelessly, his back no longer the angry reddish pink color it was prior. Damon however was looking up, eyes vacant and staring at the ceiling.

“What’s going on? Jesus christ he’s a _child.”_  Mike Smith started freaking out louder, and then Damon started _leaking_ and the rest of the hockey players were freaking out more. A black sludge was dripping down Severson’s chin, coming from his mouth and nose. Josh was quickly moving to get the trash can with Sidney was almost shaking Damon, babbling incoherently and two hands cradling Damon’s face. Babcock had left at some point, and Martin Jones looked as if he would puke. The trash can was stuffed in front of Damon’s face,  Severson quickly snapped out of it and took the trash can. He shooed Sidney back some, before leaning over the trashcan and shoving two fingers to the back of his throat. What was coming back up wasn’t food, it was more of that black sludge that had been pushing itself out of him. He took a deep breath, and looked up at Josh who was standing next to him nervously, eyes bloodshot and tears running down his face. Then set back to the task of purging the rest of the sludge from his body, chest heaving and abdomen clenching. He pushed the trash can away when he’ finished and swiped a hand over his mouth, smearing some of that sludge across his face before standing quickly and moving to the sink.

“What the fuck just happened?” Sidney looked traumatized, hands shaking as he watched Josh take the bag out of the trash can and tie it shut. The water turned on and Damon set to the task of washing his hands and face while Josh gathered his clothes.

“He just cured you, be grateful dude.” Damon stumbled back into frame shaky and pale, back still red, and looked more like a mild burn than the second degree welts that had formed before.

“Still hungry?” He was pulling his shirt back over his head, hair getting messed into his normal curls.

“After that? No way in hell dude.” Damon grinned at Josh as he pulled on his button up shirt and started to leave the locker room.

And the tape cuts off there, Damon standing and cracking his back to take the dvd out of the player and store it.

“So um, what the fuck?” Keith is confused, the curse breaking he knows involving way more chanting and less kissing. Actually it involved no kissing.

“Seconded, it takes me hours to break a curse and you just have to kiss the person? Like fuck you dude.” Cory is standing too, moving to fix his pads from where they got messed up.

“I sort of have like, a magical immune system? Like I can absorb the persons curse into my own body, and then my magic will purge it. It’s weird and I don’t like using it but it's  honestly so convenient so...” Damon is taking off his shirt to put on his pads and Reid can’t help but look at his back, parts shiny from where the burn had scarred itself into his skin, he’d never noticed them before.

“Like blood cells? That’s elite.” Jordin is still sitting on the floor, poking at Kyle who’s fiddling on his phone. At that, Damon just looks relieved, like a huge weight is off his back. He smiles down at Jordin while he pulls on his practice jersey.

“Yeah, like blood cells.”

 

They have a game against Carolina later and Reid is honestly nervous. Nervous that they’ll have another no point game and that he’ll be back to worrying if his lamp is cursed. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Damon, Reid’s just an obnoxiously paranoid person. However practice is a good distraction, Coach called for an extremely early practice. He would rather not be late, and ends up leaving early with Stephen, because living in someone's basement has it’s perks. Reid swears he’ll get his own place soon, he’s not Crosby and he’s not going to live at Gio’s for nine years. However they aren’t the only ones going to practice early, the entire team thinking the same thing, like some sort of hive mind.

Damon and Mike are parked outside when they get there, Damon’s got his gear bag slung over his shoulder and even though it’s freezing he’s leaning into Cammalleri’s rolled down window. Reid can’t make out what they are saying to each other as he walks closer to the practice rink entrance, but he has to glance down when they start kissing, a thick sting forming in his chest that he doesn’t understand. Reid tries to shake it off when Damon waits for him at the entrance, all smiles and fidgeting.

“What’s up Reid?” Damon wraps his arm around Reid’s shoulder, walking close and being his normal touchy feely self.

“I’m exhausted that’s what’s up, how are you not dying?” Damon is way too chipper for it being seven in the morning, ever the morning person. Reid’s friend just laughs at him, poking the spot on Reid’s ribs where he knows he’s ticklish.

“I’m always here this early, gotta charm the ice my dude.”  Damon’s shaking his hand out from Reid slapping it away, then running off when he sees Larsson further down the hallway.

All the guys end up sitting on the bench, waiting for Damon to charm the ice. Cory is skating out to meet him.

“I hate the way he does the creases, I always redo them during warm ups, might as well just do it now.” Cory jabs at Damon’s skate with his stick, trying to push him off his feet.

“Wanna race Schneids?” Damon is grinning obnoxiously hard, hair a mess of curls kept out of his face with a thin headband, his helmet on the bench next to Reid along with his stick.

“You wanna race? When I’m just doing the creases and the trapezoids? And you’ve got the whole rink?” Damon just nods.

“Unless you’re too chicken Schneids.”  
“Oh you’re on kid!” Cory is already skating into the crease, Damon is heading in the same direction. They get Gio to count down for them, and he waves an extra practice jersey through the air on go like it’s a flag. Cory starts on the first trapezoid, and Damon skates to the first blue line and turns around. He touches the line by Cory again and that's when Reid realizes what he’d doing, and he scowls.

“Are you fucking BAG SKATING you weirdo?!” He can hear Damon’s breathless laugh echoing off the ice, and it’s backed up by the sound of the rest of the team laughing as he nearly slips and eats shit at the farthest blue line. Damon's bag skating back when Schneider's heading to start on the other crease, skating as hard as he can and then penguin sliding into the opposite goal to save time and Reid’s ribs hurt from how hard he’s laughing. In the end Damon wins, Cory is too meticulous when charming the crease for his own good. The air is light in the practice rink, everyone’s laughter subsiding into giggles. Reid notices that even the coach is chuckling, and he knows it's going to be a good game.

It is far from a good game, they lose three to one and Reid’s chest is tight. He’s sitting in the locker room, tense and quiet. He doesn’t even notice Damon kneeling in front of him until his hands are suddenly being gripped by his teammates.

“It’s not your fault okay? You’re not cursed, it’s just a down swing.” Damon is rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles, hair wet from the shower and in shorts. Reid can hear Cammy talking with Jordin in the hallway. Reid takes a deep breath.

“What if it’s my fault?” He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

“Then no one gives a fuck, we can’t win every game.” Damon stands slowly, placing a soft kiss on Reid’s forehead before heading off to finish getting dressed. Joey sidles up next to him, pressing their shoulders together. It’s enough to calm him down as the locker room clears out slowly. Joey smiles at him, jostling him with his shoulder.

“You wanna clear out? You can come with me I don’t really think Rico cares. We can marathon the Mighty Ducks trilogy. I mean Damon’s already in my car, and I have kettlecorn?” Reid can’t help but grin at his friends attempt to cheer him up, it’s not an attempt though, because it’s working.

“Yeah let’s go, I think Gio left without me anyway.”


End file.
